Today's poem is by Michael McCarthy


For a century you held maternal,
southern magnolia, your leaves open
to all until a snowfall in February,
when one last whisper, one flake

that could not tip a scale, snapped
a bough, the whole of you
unburdening onto the ground
you once shadowed.

Copyright © 2012 Michael McCarthy All rights reserved
from the Southern Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

Support Verse Daily!

Home   Web Weekly Features  Archives   About Verse Daily   FAQs   Submit to Verse Daily   Follow Verse Daily on Twitter

Copyright © 2002-2013 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved